


Comfort

by ecrituredudesir



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Broken Condom, Canon / OC, Canon / OC Pairing, Cis Guy / Trans Guy Pairing, Creampie, M/M, Oral Sex, Original Character - Freeform, Other, Pokephilia, Pokesona - Freeform, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 07:23:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12930363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecrituredudesir/pseuds/ecrituredudesir
Summary: Commission for Gamnep on Furaffinity. After noticing Guzma acting strange and unsettled after his trip into the other universe, Hunter the Marowak tries to comfort him--in a unique way.





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Commission information can be found on my Furaffinity here: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/sariia/

Guzma hadn’t been quite…right since his return to what he could only shrug and call ‘hell’ when anyone asked him about it. It wasn’t something that any of Team Skull was willing to breach, not even their Big Sis, and she rarely had any difficulty in confronting Guzma on the more uncomfortable topics. There was something distant about the way his even more volatile moods had seemed; normally he was fully down to _shout_ , to get pissed off and rant at any one of the grunts, but it’d been hard to even get him out of the old trashed manor that they’d taken residence in. When he did go out in public, there way he carried himself was more…guarded. Precautious. Paranoid and tense, and while Guzma could be _eccentric,_ he was never so much so that it had seemed there was a deep set terror in the back of his mind. At least, there hadn’t been in a long time; few would remember a younger Guzma, ready to flinch from a hit before he’d grown into the man he’d become.  
  
Hunter had noticed all of these things, and his concern was starting to toe the thin line between passive worry and taking an active part in figuring out just what was going on with their boss. He couldn’t ask the other outright, so he waited until they were finally out on a field operation and until the grunts had left before he started up the topic between the two of them. It’d been hard enough to convince Guzma that they were doing something for him to leave the room, but at this point he was barely focused, occasionally letting off a noise akin to an uncomfortable, annoyed grumble. If they only knew what had happened after Lusamine and Guzma had disappeared into that rift, Hunter could figure out how best to approach this.  
  
Left in the dark, he had to be cautious. Guzma would lay down and brawl for Team Skull but his temperament was a bit infamous even among them all, and if something truly traumatic had happened after his disappearance, he didn’t want to hurt him any further that what might have already occurred.  
  
“Hey, boss.” Hunter breached the silence of Guzma’s quiet, tense foot tapping, drawing the gaze of the team leader with the words. Realizing he’d left the other hanging, Hunter amended the silence quickly. “…You been feeling alright, lately?” He question, his tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth as he anticipated Guzma brushing it off.  
  
Guzma’s brows furrowed; those sort of questions suggested people had been noticing him acting a little off, and that was enough to make him a little defensive at the same time. “M’fine. Why?” The question comes off as more of a demand than anything else, jaw set and clenched as his shoulders rose.  
  
“…You just seem a little quieter lately. I know it ain’t my business, but ever since you came back out of that place…” Hunter let himself drift off, feeling like his point had probably been made. Guzma let out a quiet _tsk_ of a noise, the little, familiar crinkle on his nose hinting that he didn’t want to focus on the topic. Hunter had been a member of Team Skull for a long time, though, and it was hard to hide things from one of his most important executives.  
  
“What, a guy can’t be a little pent up?” He brushes off the subject easily with a lie, shoulders stiffening as he avoided the Marowak’s inquisitive gaze. Tongue in cheek, he let out a derisive, quiet little laugh that suggested he wasn’t being completely honest. “Got a lot on my mind. Gotta deal with that _brat_ hanging around on their island trials, and getting back that _psycho_ Prez for dragging me into all that mess,” he muttered, though both knew that clearly wasn’t all there was to it.  
  
“Anything I can do to help you relieve that tension?” Hunter doesn’t necessarily think on the implications of his words until Guzma paused, focusing a somewhat surprised look on him as they let it sink in.  
  
Then, without subtlety, “You offering a quickie?”  
  
“I’m—well, if that would make you feel better…” Hunter’s mind was racing. Though he’d certainly been attracted to Guzma for a long time, he hadn’t thought that any advances would be met with any sort of positivity, though there’s a clear shine of interest in the gaze that focuses on him, and it sends a shiver of warmth through him to think that Guzma was actually making the question into a counter offer. Though Hunter had never necessarily been with anyone before, that wasn’t saying the interest—and a very _clear_ interest in Guzma—wasn’t there.  
  
“It wouldn’t make me feel worse.” His body language was shifting subtly from that guarded stance to move, sliding down against the wall of the alleyway they’d taken a temporary refuge in while waiting for the grunts to come back, and Hunter’s greeted with the realization that Guzma not only meant to make good on what had become an offer _on the spot_. In half-public where anyone could come across them at any given moment, and someone probably _would_ if any of the grunts came back from their work early.  
  
“W-wait,” he started, hesitant as he swallowed hard, Guzma on his knees before Hunter’s shorter Marowak form, just as he started to feel the other slide his thumb under the edge of the shirt he wore. Guzma lifted his eyes from where they’d been honing in on the other’s stomach, intent on examining whatever skin he could get a look at. He met Hunter’s eyes, noting the reservation, the shy nervousness that seemed to radiate from his expression, and there’s a little shift as he realized why the other might be a bit worried.  
  
“You never been with anyone before?” A small shake of his head to confirm the question, and Guzma let out a tight exhale through his nose, trying not to acknowledge the fact that being Hunter’s first stirred a heat in the pit of his stomach. He could see the warmth in Hunter’s gaze, but he also took careful note that the other hadn’t lifted a hand to push him away. “Don’t worry,” Guzma breathed, moving to press a kiss to Hunter’s firm jaw, “Big Bad Guzma’ll go easy on you.” It’s spoken like a sweet promise instead of any actual intimidating threat, and he moved to push Hunter gingerly to the rough stone wall of one of the buildings they were standing between. While Guzma pressed kisses downwards, sucking little marks into the skin that he could get to. His hand continued up the curve of the other’s side, his fingers stretched over the skin there as his thumb found one of the nipples along the bottom set of them against Hunter’s stomach. The skin is sensitive and it makes Hunter gasp, tilting into the touch.  
  
“Does it feel good?” Guzma rumbled softly, already knowing the answer. His free hand had shifted, his knuckles brushing between Hunter’s thighs as he slid his fingers along the hidden slit there. Hunter’s clit was already warm, fitting snuggly against the palm of Guzma’s hand. Though that wasn’t his goal, it’s enough to draw a surprised little noise from Hunter at how _warm_ the other’s palm was, with Guzma’s index finger dipping between the fold of skin just behind it. To his satisfaction it wasn’t more than a few strokes of that finger before he felt Hunter’s body respond to the warmth and touches, and he felt the first slips of slick fluid on his fingertips.  
  
“Yes,” Hunter gasped, slipping his legs open a little further to let the first finger dip against the tight heat of his slit.  
  
“I’m about to make it feel even better, then,” Guzma muttered, pulling his hands back, leaning back enough to admire three marks he’d managed to kiss and suckle into the skin of Hunter’s neck so far. There’s pride in his stare as a smirk works its way across his features, and before Hunter could question what the other meant, Guzma tucked those large hands under the other’s armpit and _lifted_ , hoisting his weight into the air against the wall with enough force to pin him to it. The muscles of his arms flexed, something Hunter could feel under his hand from the way he had to reach out and grip Guzma’s biceps to keep himself from panicking at the sudden shift in his weight upwards. Guzma had placed him just above his regular high, enough so he could lean forward with Hunter’s engorged clit right in front of him.  
  
“Don’t make a noise. I’ll be pissed if we get caught.” There’s no actual threat in his words other than the need to save face, but Hunter understood that was just _Guzma._ It wouldn’t be if he didn’t talk smack to save face and pride. It was that sense of pride that made Guzma make sure Hunter was watching him before his tongue slipped out, starting just behind the sensitive bundle of nerves, flattening against the underside of it before flicking upwards. Hunter moans quickly at the sensation, lifting a palm to cover his mouth at the surprised and unexpected noise, squirming in the other’s grasp as he tried his best not to get them caught.  
  
Hunter let one hand card through the white locks of the man between his thighs, especially when Guzma wrapped his mouth around his clit, lavishing attention with his tongue there until it nearly brought him to tears with the sensation making him squirm in the other’s hold. Guzma felt a surge of pride at the quiet noises that he was making the other have to muffle, soothing away the bitter, awful feelings that had plagued him since his trip into the other realm.  
  
He’s hard by now, but with his grip holding his executive’s frame up against the wall, he’d left to grind uncomfortable against the inside of his own pants until the temptation is simply too much to bear any more. Hunter was nearly writhing against the wall as a direct effect of a tongue he’d never imagine to be so skilled, and Guzma had left no doubt in his mind that whatever he had in store be permanently impressed in his mind.  
  
The team boss lowered him to his feet again, but Hunter had to put most of his weight against the wall less his legs collapse under him from the heated, flushed feeling that seemed to flood through every inch of him, and he’s aware then that Guzma’s hands were busied with working at the buttons of his own pants, the tent below the clasp more than obvious. Meanwhile, Guzma busied himself with dipping in for a heated kiss that had Hunter _tasting_ himself, and that enough was enough to steal away his breath—but not the realization that the semi-sweet richness on Guzma’s tongue was Hunter tasting _himself_ in the kiss. It was an embarrassing thought that had him red in the face and before long, Guzma had him flushed to the wall with the weight of his body, his dick pressed to Hunter’s stomach.  
  
This drew a slight noise of concern from him, eyes widening briefly as he made a noise that had Guzma pulling back from the kiss to regard the other with a little concern. He may have been power hungry, and a bit unstable if he wasn’t in control of a situation, but he wouldn’t actually force the other into anything. “Won’t it be kinda… messy?” Hunter questioned, hesitantly with a little furrow of his brow, uncertain of the situation considering that while he _hadn’t_ done anything like this before, he wasn’t ignorant. He was the furthest thing front.  
  
Guzma seemed reluctant to pull back for a moment, shifting to dig out his wallet from the pocket of his pants, which had sunk down low on his hips from where he’d pushed them down far. While Hunter missed the warmth of his hands on his form, he knew there was a reason for it; it became obvious when Guzma opened the wallet and slipped the condom from the back fold of it, lifting it up with a smug little grin that split across his face as if he knew very well that a moment like this would arise and he would be in need of one.  
  
It didn’t help that the packaging looked a little old, but his knuckles pressed together when he grasped it to rip it open, finger pressing to the middle of it to find the roll of the edge, before he grasped his member in one hand, holding it still while he rolled the purple latex over the blunt tip of his erection. Perhaps his mistake was overeagerness; he didn’t leave enough air at the tip to leave room for anything, but Hunter wasn’t sure enough on it to question it and Guzma leaning forward to grind gingerly between the Marowak’s thighs had him not _caring_ to question it.  
  
The team boss let out a shaky, content little groan as he felt the wet warmth coat the outside of the condom, and he lifted Hunter again to press his weight against his stomach, pinning the other to the wall about a foot off of the ground. Guzma used his pants to protect his knees from the rough concrete under them, and with a little shifting of Hunter’s weight over him, he started to lower the other down onto his cock.  
  
It seemed almost impossible at first, that Guzma would be too big for how tight Hunter’s smaller body would be, but after a slow, quiet process of Guzma kissing Hunter into silence while he lowered him, it felt like the Team Skull head had finally bottomed out in the other. It was a little embarrassing how easily Guzma could move him like this, how he could lift and lower him against him while Hunter moaned sweetly into the crook of his neck when Guzma broke off to pull at his shirt, leaving marks behind his collarbone where his neck met his shoulder.  
  
“So fuckin’ good,” Guzma groaned softly into the other’s skin. “You know, it’s still _hot_. You’re still amazing, even after everything. You always have been.” He meant the other’s Pokemon form, of course, after the incident that had turned his executive into the smaller body. It’s a little hint that the interest had always been there, that it hadn’t just spawned out of Hunter’s shift in shape. That it was Hunter himself that had caught Guzma’s eye, nothing else about him. That thought alone made Hunter shiver around him in pleasure, distinctly satisfied by the thought that Guzma had been this wild for him before everything had happened.  
  
He waits a moment before moving inside of him, making sure that Hunter had adjusted to his size. When he _does_ move, it’s amazing, the sensation and feeling making the smaller male let out an unintentional plethora of noise, soft moans as he feels inch by inch slide out of him, every little bump making him squirm and spread his thighs so Guzma would feel more than welcome—and he did, making up for the slow pull out by a hard rock of his hips forward that made Hunter fully aware at the roughness of the wall at his back. His fingers and small claws dug against Guzma’s shoulder and arm to hold on, but Guzma was erratic with his movements, thrusting deeper. He hadn’t been _lying_ when he’d said ‘quickie’—the risk of getting caught was too great if they stretched this out, and Guzma had been about ready to cum in his pants for the delight of eating Hunter out.  
  
Neither had time to waste, but despite the warning of being silent, neither could hold back their sound, either. Guzma’s lips parted in small, rough grunts, a noise he didn’t seem to be fully conscious of himself making. Hunter was no better, each rough thrust bringing a soft whine from him that evolved into little vocalizations, soft cries each time Guzma buried himself deep in him and he couldn’t say he regretted this at all. Despite both of their wary concerns earlier over not making too much noise, in the heat of the moment, neither seemed to be able to control themselves.  
  
Hunter was the first to finish, something he was blatantly unashamed of. It was to be expected, almost, with his inexperience and the way Guzma seemed to know just how to hit every right spot deep inside of him, and it’s without much warning at all that his entire body arched to the other, giving a heavy little yelp of “ _Guzma! Please- fuck- I’m.. ahh-“_  
  
It's a noise Guzma delighted in, drinking in the yelp as he felt Hunter tighten, and he hilts himself with a snap of his hips as he lets the other’s tight heat draw him to a finish. There’s a vague sense of feeling something _pop_ but it’s too late to pull back… until, breathless, he let himself draw back from the other only to see a trail of cum still connecting him to the other’s well-loved entrance.  It’s a sight he admires, one that he relishes in as he feels his cheeks warm, and it’s a little too late that he recognizes the sound as having been the condom breaking. There was something decidedly attractive about seeing his load slip from the other in little drips, both of them mixed as he seals another kiss to the other’s jaw, warm as he did his best not to focus on the thought; their quickie wouldn’t be so quick if he did. Sliding off the broken remnants of the condom and tossing them aside, letting the other relish in the afterglow, Guzma finally seemed a little more relaxed. More than he had been in the last several days, at least, and though Hunter was sure he would deny it if he asked about it… he was almost certain he saw the other smiling shamelessly as he planted little kisses on his skin.  
  
“…Thanks.”


End file.
